


Hamistagan

by EmeraldQueern



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: BDSM, Dominatrix, Dubious Consent, F/F, F/M, Face-Sitting, Female Apprentice (The Arcana), Femdom, Fluff and Angst, Good versus Evil, M/M, Multi, Oral Sex, Other, Pegging, Rough Sex, Smut, Spanking, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-21
Updated: 2020-07-29
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:21:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24845224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmeraldQueern/pseuds/EmeraldQueern
Summary: "She was dripping water all over the floor. It was darker outside, and Asra was enraptured by the way the water drops glistened on her body in the twilight. She was a formidable vision and he felt a glow of pride as he took in the sight of the woman she had become. He swallowed slowly.“As for what we are going to do now, I have missed you far too much to let you ruin this for me.” She slowly straddled Asra still sitting on the ledge of the tub and released her grip on his hand, placing his palm gently over her breast."....After the plague, MC (AFAB) left Vesuvia to get away from it all. A familiar traveler arrives at the town she is hunkering down in. Things get a bit...strange.3 years later, she is back. A lot has happened in the past 3 years and it appears, she is changes and so has Vesuvia!Have a good idea for the story map and will have smut when the mood strikes (i.e often) with as much warnings as I can think of, but if something is triggering and I’ve missed it, feel free to call me out and I will address it.
Relationships: Asra/Julian Devorak, Asra/Julian Devorak/Original Female Character(s), Julian Devorak/Lucio (The Arcana), Lucio (The Arcana)/Original Character(s)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 24





	1. I Regret Nothing

  


_Should have worn something more comfortable_ , she mused; hooking a finger under a wire, she pulled the corset out of the flesh it was digging into, just for a moment of relief. She focused on cooling her touch and channeled it through her fingertips, sighing as the cool air made her skin tingle.

For a damn day-long trip on a rickety carriage, trying to look nice when you arrive was a lost cause. A battle not worth fighting to begin with. But the thought of how he looked when she last saw him, the way his smooth skin always looks well-rested and bright, his hair always perfectly chaotic in a way that looks too deliberate to ever truly be messy, and those ridiculously mismatched clothes always perfectly and strategically exposing his perfect body. If she didn't know any better, she would think he was vain; but somehow his humility shone through despite it all. She let out another sigh and nodded to herself. Comfort be damned when it comes to looking good after this long.

In a split second she was jostled out of her seat when the carriage came to a sudden halt. Almost catapulted to the end of the carriage, where a slimy looking man, who had not taken his damn eyes off her for a second, was leering at her. She scrambled with her hand at the small windowsill just in time and stilled herself, dropping her ass back, not so gracefully, on her seat. She thought about some form of temporary magic torture for the creep and smiled to herself having _just_ the perfect idea.

She was beyond grateful when the driver finally whistled and yelled out for the young man sitting in the back to unload the luggage. They're finally here!

Her feet felt heavy and swollen from sitting on a crappy little cushion on a wooden bench for hours. The butterflies made a sudden return to her stomach. She tried to smooth her curls that had turned into a lackluster mess of frizz and dabbed underneath her eyes in an effort to erase the fatigue of the road from her face. _Futile_ , she sighed. _How the hell have I not come up with a refresh spell yet?_

She looked over at the older woman elegantly fanning herself sitting next to her. Her silver hair still perfectly pinned in place and her eyes shut in what looked like a pleasant dream. She always envied those who didn’t show the impact of the journey on their faces. The woman looked just as good as when they had left. Well composed and in control, slowly she fluttered her eyes open as if sensing the glare on her, and her lips curled into a polite smile. She returned the smile with a nod, silently acknowledging the end of their trip together.

The wagon’s little door flung open and the young man held out his hand to help the passengers off. She almost threw herself at the door suddenly feeling claustrophobic. One, two, and the last steps before she was on the gravel, squeezing her kneecaps and straightening her back, before shielding her eyes from the midday sun.

She took a deep breath and waited for her eyes to adjust to the bright light. Her ears heard before her eyes could see: 

"As always, a sight to behold Arezu!"

She blinked a few times in the direction of the voice and could soon make out the shine coming off white hair. She felt her heart leap into her throat, as if until that very moment, she had not let herself miss Asra.

"Asra! You are a sight for sore eyes." 

She threw her arms around his neck and held him in an embrace, inhaling his unmistakable scent and allowing the gentle stretch to relax her shoulders, the heaviness of the past years weighing them down. He felt somewhat rigid in her embrace. She didn’t let herself dwell on it. He peeled himself away from her, giving her a formal pat on the arm and nodded over at the pile of luggage.

“Which one's yours?”

“The green one on the right,” she pointed, and he strode over and grabbed it, tossing a coin to the young man standing over the pile, and walking over smiling. Gods that face hasn't aged a day. 

Asra hooked his arm through hers, but she paused, looking back at the slimy man now standing outside the carriage, still staring at her with his hands in his pockets; she snapped her fingers and gave a brief nod to him before turning and walking away with Asra. The last thing she saw was the look of sheer horror on the man’s face as he tried frantically to take off his pants to relieve himself from the sensation a thousand bees stinging him. Asra raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

"Anywhere you'd want to stop before we head over to the shop?"

"Nothing should come between me and a bath now"

"The shop it is."

* * *

She took a deep breath in. _I'm home._ The moment they stepped inside, she kicked off her heels and felt the urge to undress immediately; only conscious of the fact that she hadn't seen Asra for a few years now. But hell, they had shared much more than a bed for far longer than that. 

With that thought, she unclipped her hair, raking through the knots with one hand while trying to unhook the clasps on the corset. 

"Do you need a hand with that, or would you like some privacy?” 

"Help me out of this torture device immediately before I pass out. The thing was most certainly a man’s invention. Wanting us weak and out of breath so we can’t fight back.” Asra smiled but hesitated. “You know I've never had a good grasp on boundaries, and I am not about to start setting them now.” 

He chuckled and quickly aided her in unhooking what felt like 100 small clasps. 

“I’ll draw you a bath.” he turned away as soon as the last hook was undone, picking up the bag and carrying it upstairs while Arezu slowly followed. Still fumbling with her dress.

The room upstairs didn’t look like it had changed much since she was last there. She breathed in the cool air of the room and felt memories creep into her mind unbid. She could hear Asra filling the tub. The clicking of bottles and the sound of water made her feel like she had travelled back in time. She walked over to her bag, unzipped it and quickly pulled out all the she had not so neatly packed in. She hated packing and unpacking, even more than sitting in a confined space with strangers in silence for a full day.

She shed her clothes right next to the bag; pulled out her shampoo bar and conditioning oils, a more modest chemise and some make up and slowly walked over to the bathroom, suddenly feeling unreasonably self-conscious. She never easily blushed. She doesn’t remember ever being embarrassed. She was never too shy about her body and being naked never felt like a novelty. It is not that she deemed her body perfect or aligned with what was _in_ with the beauty standards of the day that seem to change every season. She just loved her body. It had carried her through so many adventures, and had lines and scars and spots that each had a memory tied closely and dearly to them. The same body that was gifted to her _twice._ How could she not be grateful? The past few years have also made her more aware of the strength she held in her physical body and made her respect the instrument she was given to utilize her powers.

She thought maybe it is because she was hiding more than her body from Asra, and the thought made her wince. Felt odd to feel shy around him but she was too tired to overthink it. She turned on her heels, grabbed her robe out of the pile on the floor, slipped it on and stepped into the bathroom.

* * *

Asra was sitting on the edge of the tub, moving his arm in the water dazed, mindlessly. He looked up when the door opened further as Arezu walked in with her robe loosely hanging around her shoulders. He let his eyes roam over her body before he compelled himself to turn his gaze back up to her eyes.

“It feels surreal to have you back here, Arezu. I almost don’t believe it. We have so much to catch up on.”

He stood up quickly, as if suddenly remembering something. “Can I get you some chamomile tea to relax with while bathing?”

“Umm, do you still make that delicious berry wine?”

Asra laughed a little louder than they both anticipated and stepped forward to give her a hug. “Of course, I do! I haven’t been drinking much of it, since you left, but it feels like that’s about to change!”

He separated from the hug, walked over to the door and turned around just before stepping out. “It’s good to have you back here Ari. It’s really good.”

* * *

Asra hesitated in the room before going back downstairs. His heart was palpitating, and he felt anxious. He wasn’t used to feeling this nervous. He took a few calming breaths and looked over at the mess of clothes on the floor. It already felt like she had never left. He could hear her humming as she lowered herself in the bath, water splashing around, it sounded just as he remembered.

He shook off the déjà vu and kneeled by her bag, slowly pulling up the items one at the time, before putting them on the bedside table or folding them. He briefly let his eyes linger on a heavy package, folded in a thick fabric, still sitting at the bottom of her bag. He pulled the corner and spotted the heavily runed daggers neatly placed next to each other. A book with uncharged sigils sat underneath them. He felt something ominous stir in his aura, but he quickly refocused his attention and went back to folding. He didn’t want to snoop. He pulled out her scarf, held it up. It was the one he got her many years ago when the winter didn’t seem to end, and the nights dragged on for what felt like an eternity. It smelled like her, he held it close to his face, inhaled and felt a strange longing, for something gone but not completely forgotten.

* * *

She heard a gentle knock and opened her eyes to see Asra standing at the door, holding two full glasses of wine, looking a little too hesitant for her liking.

“I don’t believe it!” 

“What don’t you believe?”

“That you’ve gone and gotten so shy in the past few years. Where is the pervy Asra we all knew and loved?”

His shoulders seemed to relax, and he laughed with a sigh. “Oh he was never an innate part you see. _You_ were the one who brought out the worst in me,” his smile faded and Arezu shifted in the tub a bit. He stammered hastily catching himself saying what he didn’t mean to, “I…I suspect pervy Asra is lurking just under the surface and will soon be taking over.”

There was a moment before Asra came in all the way, handed the glass of wine to Arezu, pulled the little stool from the corner and sat down. She leaned in, resting her chin on her folded arm at the ledge of the tub. “Let’s address the elephant in the room, shall we? You know I’m not one to sit in discomfort like this.”

“Ah I had forgotten. You take no prisoners…”  
“You wear your thoughts on your face, my love. Let’s hear them.”

“OK then,”

He took a shallow breath and before he could help overthink it, he let out everything he was holding in, in one breath. “I can’t believe you left us. I can’t believe you left me. Where the hell have you been Ari? I thought you may be dead somewhere. I mourned you, _again_. I sent messages with every traveler coming through. We…Ilya and I, even asked the palace for their aid before we gave up. And then 3 years later, I get a note that you are coming for a _visit_? A _visit_ , Ari? Where are you visiting from? You brought just a little bag, so I assume you will be returning to wherever it has been that you’ve been hiding? Did you ever think of us?... Are you OK?”

The sun was getting lower in the sky and the light in the bathroom had changed into a purple orange that matched him, his tone and the shade of rage-red peppering his cheeks so well. She took in the sight, leaned back and closed her eyes. _Hiding._ Was she hiding?

She needed a moment to collect her thoughts, not expecting the outburst of emotions at a single prompt. _So uncharacteristic of him,_ she thought. She opened one eye and looked at Asra, still looking at her, not angry, not expectant, there was a sadness in his eyes that made her feel a pang of regret that she hadn’t allowed herself to feel. After all, she held onto to the belief that she had lived thus far, with no regrets. But the soft sadness in his big eyes, the weight pulling on the corner of his lips, the fine lines in his brow that made him look older in this light, made her heart ache.

“I am really sorry Asra, I truly am. I do feel that my reasons for leaving were and still are valid. But I know the way I left was cruel. I recognize the hurt I caused. I should have never, ever, hurt you like this. I know this is not enough,” she held out her hand, “but I am sorry. Will you ever be able to forgive me?”

Asra avoided her gaze, staring at her outstretched hand, “It is already forgiven Ari.” He held her hand for a moment, keeping his gaze low. “I was worried sick. We all were. Some of us don’t deal well with abandonment, you know...”

Before Ari could say anything, he pulled his hand away, waving it as if to dispel a bad thought, and took another sip of his wine, “you must be tired. We…we don’t have to do this right now.”

_Theeeere he is! The avoidant and all too distant Asra._

The door creaked and moved a bit. As if right on cue, a small, shiny, lavender body crawled up around Asra’s stool and brought its little face up to Arezu’s. _*Friend*_ She stretched her head closer, _*Missed*_

“Faust!! Oh I have missed you too my most favourite noodle!” _*Stay?*_ She bumped her nose on Faust’s small head and she lowered her head to receive the loving pets. “I will stay a while, if Master here doesn’t kick me out soon.”

Asra seemed momentarily relaxed. He felt like he was swinging between polarizing emotions and his calm demeanor was suffering. He tried to ride the wave of stillness that was washing over him. Could be the wine, could be the heady smell of the bath oils or the fact that he just spilled out some of what he had bottled up since he got that note a few weeks back. Faust slithered outside of the bath, not being a big fan of steam and water, and curled on Arezu’s now neatly folded scarf.

They sat in silence for a few moments, only the sound of water splashing around as Ari idly moved her hands over her arms and shoulder. Then the pendulum swung again. He felt like he didn’t know what to do with his hands. He felt uncomfortable; like his body was too much for the state he was in. He drained his glass of wine and leaned forward on his elbows. “You should know, Ilya will be joining us tonight. He…he felt too impatient to wait for your decision of an appropriate time to see him. I hope that’s ok.”

Arezu unpinned her hair, laid back far enough to get her hair wet, without submerging her head entirely. “My ever-impatient Dr. Devorak. I miss him immensely. I suppose it is time to face the music anyway. The wrath of Julian. I don’t know if I’ve ever seen it. Do you think he knows how to get angry?” Asra chuckled, “Oh, you’d be surprised.” He picked up the shampoo bar and handed it to Ari as she sat up. “Your hair is so much longer now. Remember you used to worry that you will forever look like a young boy? We thought the trauma from the…revival, had stunned its growth, remember? Guess some time away from us has done you good.”

“It really has Asra. Not the being away from you…just the being away. I now understand the appeal of all those trips you used to take. Distance is a wonderful lens; gives you a perspective nothing else can. I can see things much more clearly now.”

She lathered her hair and Asra got up and sat on the ledge of the tub and helped rinse her locks with a small brass cup. He ran his fingers through her hair, untangling the knots. The muscle memory intuitively taking over before his conscious mind could intervene. He caught himself looking down at her body. The familiarity of those soft curves and the changes, the marks and lines he didn’t know, trapped his breath. He noticed fine parallel lines tattooed on either side of her spine with a black sun on her atlas just underneath her hairline. The comfortable intimacy with which she leaned into his hand made his head swim; warning lights going off in his head. _Stop!_ _She will leave again._ He knew he was dangerously close to scratching the barely scabbed over wounds open.

She looked up at him, as if alarmed by his stillness. She too looked pained. She knew she is on the path to breaking her own heart again. As if she had read his mind, she hummed: “It’s too late Asra. It’s already too late.”

He leaned down, pulling her hair a little too hard, her lips parted in a barely audible _ah_ but she stared at him with those emerald eyes that had haunted his dreams for 3 years. Before he could heed the voice of reason screaming at him in his head, he had locked his lips on hers. She tasted just as he remembered, just as he had imagined, just as he had hoped.

He let himself drift for a moment before pulling back. His jaw was clenched. He moved her head to one side with his fingers still tangled in her wet hair, brought his face close to her again and almost growled, “I lied. I have not forgiven you and I don’t know if I can yet. But I think I’m gonna let you start to make it up to me now.”

With a swift move, she grabbed his hand, pried it out of her hair and spun around to face him directly now. Slowly, she rose out of the water, stepped out of the tub, still gripping Asra’s hand tightly. A dark expression set across her features. Asra felt the hair stand up on the back of his neck. “Just to be clear, I don’t see a need to make anything up to you. I hope one day you can forgive me and see that I made the best decision for myself, to untangle myself from the chaotic mess we had made together; and Asra, I regret _nothing_.”

She was dripping water all over the floor. It was darker outside, and Asra was enraptured by the way the water drops glistened on her body in the twilight. She was a formidable vision and he felt a glow of pride as he took in the sight of the woman she had become. He swallowed slowly. “As for what we are going to do now, I have missed you far too much to let you ruin this for me.” She slowly straddled Asra still sitting on the ledge of the tub and released her grip on his hand, placing his palm gently over her breast.

Asra’s violet eyes were heavy-lidded, eager and angry all in one confusing package. For a brief moment she feared he would push her away.

He lowered his hands, grabbed her by the hips and stood up. Kicking the door open with his heel, refusing to look at anything but her eyes, he stepped out. Faust, alarmed from the sound, had already slithered halfway across the room and quickly made herself scarce. Asra walked to the bed and dropped Arezu unceremoniously on the bed, removing his shirt while keeping her pinned down with his eyes. It felt unnerving and she felt like she needed shelter from his unrelenting gaze. He flicked his wrist and the candles around the room lit with a burst of flames.

Water drops were sliding off her body and pooling on the bed. She had little time to think of the discomfort with Asra peering down at her. How could she not miss this divine looking creature in front of her. He lowered himself over her, his gaze boring through her and when he spoke again, she had a hard time grasping what he said. His body was pressed flush against hers and she could feel his erection against her hip, it made her lift her hips involuntarily, seeking the hard shaft closer to her. Asra’s voice came with a warm breath caressing her ear, giving her goosebumps. “You have been selfish Ari. So selfish. You left me. After all that we went through, and I feel that it’s only fair if I get to be selfish now, just for a bit.” She lifted her head and pressed her lips to his, both to taste him and to stop him from talking about the past.

One hand travelled up, tracing the muscles on his back and another tangled itself in his soft curls. The soft kiss turned hungry and ravenous in mere seconds. The anticipation was overwhelming all their senses. Enough that they heard the footsteps coming up the stairs, a little too late. “Asra? Is she here? Where are you guys?”

“Fuck!” Arezu made a halfhearted attempt to push Asra off but he held her down with a predatory look in his eyes. “We’re here Ilya. Come in!” _You bastard!_ She made a mental note to get Asra back for this. He lifted himself off quickly and stood by the bed, arms crossed and one hand holding up his chin, as if trying to assess Ilya's reaction to the debauched scene in front of him.

She sat up and grabbed a pillow, placing it in front of her body, just in time for a head of red hair to poke through the door. Julian looked disheveled and apprehensive, not wearing his eye-patch and letting his long locks fall over the eye with the red sclera. “Gods it really is you!” He rushed in as if completely unaware of the compromised state Ari was in, sat on the bed, pulled her into a tight hug, and started peppering her face and neck with fervent kisses, gasping for air and for words.

“I have missed you so much… I can’t believe I am holding you… I thought you may be dead… I knew you weren’t… but you didn’t even write… I wrote to everyone I knew in every city I’ve ever been to… nobody knew you… where have you been? Will you stay? Are you ok?”

He was now holding her away inspecting her face. As if just noticing the wet hair, the wet bed sheets and the pillow trying but failing to cover her body. He whipped his head back and forth between Asra and Ari. “You two weren’t…were you two getting it on? Wasting no time ha? Did I walk in on you? Serves you well for starting the party _without_ me!”

She reached out and cupped his face. Gods only know how many times she wanted to break, run back and bury her face in that long neck.

“Julian, I have missed you so much. My beautiful boy I am sorry for having left you like this. I know that was _selfish_ ,” she looked back at Asra now looking carefully at the two of them. “It was a decision I made for my own sake and I am better for it.” She caressed his cheek and took a sharp inhale, “and to answer one of those questions; I stayed off the radar and lived in a few places. I didn’t stay in one place long enough to get an address. I also didn’t give people my real name and information, so I’m not surprised that nobody knew me. I couldn’t reach out to you, the thought of you would pull me all the way back here and I couldn’t let myself do that… yet.”

“I understand…” Julian sighed. _He understood? His gentle, ever forgiving heart..._ The burden weighing heavy on her heart lightened just a bit. She reached out and ran her hand through his hair. She felt so grateful for this beautiful man’s kindness. “I have good stories to tell now. We may have to have a story-off!” she quipped. “Aaaand as for your earlier question, Asra here was trying to teach me a lesson, I think…”

“Oh now I am really sorry for interrupting.” He looked up at Asra, “She thinks she can drop back in here and all will be forgiven? Can I watch?”

She grabbed another pillow and hit him hard on the side of the head with it.

“Can I get dressed and put some damn oils in my hair before it’s an unsalvageable mess?” She stretched her arms and straightened her back. “I am getting too old for this much drama. My body is so achy.” Asra walked over to the bathroom, and returned holding a towel. He handed it to her and stood back. She wrapped it around herself, stood up and strode to the bathroom, noticing the folded clothes for the first time. _Some things never change,_ she mused. “Thank you Asra!” He was still silent, not having said a word since Julian got there. He nodded with a small smile. She walked back to the bathroom to get her robe, giving Asra and Julian a moment to release the breath that they held inside since she vanished with nothing but a small note. When she walked back in, she was wearing her robe again and running her oily fingers through her hair. She had dabber some oils on her face and she was glowing in the candlelight. She froze at the door at the sight she saw.

They were holding each other in an embrace and Asra was gently weeping.

She knew she won’t be forgiven any time soon. She walked over and hugged them both with her arms wide. “I’m so sorry,” she mumbled, and two arms lifted to embrace her back. They stood like that, long enough that a candle flickered out and she felt her knees begin to ache from exhaustion.

Asra was the first to pull away. “she needs to rest. Let’s eat something quickly and let you rest Ari. As long as we don’t wake up to another note tomorrow morning.” “Don’t tempt me Asra!” She was grateful for the lighthearted chuckle that escaped the two of them.

* * *

The dinner went by with pleasant small talk. The baker’s newborn baby, the regular’s gossip at the shop, the new structures erecting in Vesuvia in the past 3 years, the cute new barkeep at the Raven, …. Nobody dared ask the big questions.

Ari finished before the other two. She got up, did a small stretch of her back with her arms up and sat down on the couch while the other two finished. Faust slithered over and curled on her lap. Slowly the warmth of their voices and the familiar scent of the shop overtook all her sense. Exhaustion engulfed her and she fell into a deep, dreamless slumber.


	2. I Will Hurt You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 3 years ago. Ari has just settled in Venterre, getting a job at an apothecary. She spends her days quietly tending the herb garden and selling prescriptions, and gets drunk at the local bar at night. 
> 
> Until a traveler comes through, bringing more than just memories with himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There'll be smut - it's explicit. Brace yourself!

“GEMMA! Get yo ass over ‘ere lil lady!” She chuckled and shrugged off her cape, pulling her satchel off her shoulder and strode slowly towards the group of rather inebriated towns folks at the bar. “What you yelling for Horace, I can hear you. Not everybody is deaf in one ear y’know!”

Sionne and Leigh roared with a laugh and he grumbled, “why you gotta be so mean Gem. All I give’er is love and she busts my balls left ‘n right. Josie get’er a beer. Maybe that’ll sweeten her.”

“Oh I do love you too Horace” she said in a quiet voice, raising it to add “and have told you a hundred time, you just can’t seem to _hear_ me.”

Josie beamed at her and pushed the pint in front of her. “Settle a bet for us Gemma, will you?” Josie leaned in, a scheming look on her face, “New caravan came in today, and it brought some tasty goods. I’m a married woman in love, but I gotta say this one looks _fiiin_ e!”

Horace leaned in too, his breath reeking of cheap booze and stale tobacco, “I bet he some rich asshole on’is way ta claim some bequest or some other coin somewhere. Josie and Leigh here are of de mind that he be some lovelorn man lookin’ for his lover. Though that ide’s getting dodgy cause he ain’t looking away from our Gemma over ‘ere. Sionne here thinks he a man for hire. If he be right, I can finally put a coin in his hand and get that damn farrier who fuck up my mare’s leg killed for his sins.”

Sionne hiccupped and pointed with his pint at the corner of the bar behind Arezu, “Whatever he be, he too shiny to be one of us degenerates.”

Ari laughed lightheartedly and turned her head to follow the direction the pint was pointing with her eyes… and her heart sank. All sounds started to go muffled around her; her peripheral vision vanished. Like a trapped animal ready to fight or flight her tunnel vision was making her dizzy, yet adrenaline surged through her body.

She stumbled off the bar stool almost knocking it to the ground. She walked over to the unblinking figure in the corner, grabbed him by the scruff of his shirt and pulled him close to her face, “What the fuck are you doing here Lucio?”

Anger and fear and all the sadness she had held inside for the past year bubbled up in her throat. Lucio looked amused. “Gemma, ha? You’ve got everybody fooled again it seems, witch.” He was almost gloating, “When I stepped into this shithole to drown my sorrows, I didn’t think I would be in for a night of revisiting old friends, Ari.”

She noticed Sionne and Horace stumbling over behind her, “Errythin’ alright here Gem?” She hesitated for a moment imagining how good it would feel to watch the townsfolks kick Lucio’s ass and was annoyed to recall this man has gone undefeated in all his battles. She let go of his shirt and straightened up. Turning away from him, she cleared her throat, “I got this, guys. Thanks for checking in. It’s just…an old acquaintance of mine. Didn’t leave on good terms last I saw him. I gotta do some catching up with him” The men looked unconvinced but nodded and turned to walk away. “And Sionne, he’s a degenerate alright!” She winked at them to reassure the hesitant men and watched them as they walked back; Horace turning to check up on her every few minutes.

When they were seated back at the bar, she grabbed a chair and put it in front of Lucio. Magic was tingling at her fingertips and she was already imagining practicing all the forbidden blood magic she knew on him. Absentmindedly she noted that he had removed the plates from his prosthetic arm and rolled his left sleeve all the way down to his wrist.

“I left…to get away from you, from the horrendous shit you put the town through, and I left all those I loved to catch a god damn break. So please go on and tell me why you’re here and when the fuck you’d be on your way.”

He leaned in and sipped on his beer. He looked pained for a flash of a second before a smirk set on his face. “I always so enjoyed your potty mouth. Though I could think of a few better uses for it.” His gaze roved over her body. Before she could think twice, her hand was midair, and had landed sharply on Lucio’s left cheek. The slap rang in the bar and everyone went quiet for a second.

She whispered through gritted teeth, “Lucio, by gods I will use whatever ungodly force out there to eviscerate you, if you…”

He held up his arms in surrender, alarmed by the slap that came out of nowhere, “alright, alright…geez calm down. And enough with my name, I don’t assume I have many fans in Venterre either.” She thought for a moment if she could hit him in the face with that pint on the table, hard enough for him to choke on his own teeth. “Are you thinking about hitting me? You are, aren’t you?” He laughed out loud and leaned back on his chair. “Feisty, feisty little Fool.” “Don’t you fucking call me that.” Arezu twitched and was ready to unleash another barrage of threats on him. He leaned back and rubbed his cheek and then his chin. She noticed for the first time that he looked scruffy and tired. His stubble was blond and barely there, but she doesn’t remember ever seeing him not being clean shaven, even when he was very sick.

“Well, Vesuvia was done with me it seems. The people loved me…I don’t know what happened…”

“What the hell are you talking about? Vesuvia never loved you. You treated the people like shit, why would they?” She was enjoying not being bound by the fear of him hurting those she loved, holding back to not hurt his ego on the off chance that he’d call in the army to destroy a part of the town. He was petty enough to do cruel things just because he could. But now, sitting here, looking defeated, in the corner of a seedy bar, made her feel brave, like she could really hurt him, and nobody would know! She watched the dark thoughts circling in her mind for a second. The darkness he conjured in her scared and pleased her at the same time. 

“I heard that you had left, from Nadia’s maid, Portia.”

She wanted so badly to know how Portia was; how everyone was. Her heart was being pulled in a thousand different directions. But she couldn’t let him know that. She inhaled deeply and glared at him. "Why, are you, here?"

“People weren’t going home. They stayed on the streets. They took down my statues! They gathered outside of the palace gates, threw torches in the gardens, they would beat the guards and cast stones. I…I guess I didn’t know…” He looked like a scorned child. 

“Ha! Did you really not, your majesty? You couldn’t possibly think you could push people down this far without them rising up.”  
  
“I don’t know. I guess I have been lying to everyone, but mostly to myself Ari….Can I call you Ari?”  
  
_How very introspective of you. Who would have thought you even remotely capable?_ “No, you may not. That is a name reserved for my friends and you are no friend of mine.” She tried to ignore the melancholy in his eyes. “And I go by Gemma now.”

“Ok, Gemma it is. Look Gemma I'm not ready to apologize yet for anything I have done. I have done everything in my life for one reason. Survival.”

“You can not possibly think that’s true. Manipulating and lying and scheming and making deals with the damn Devil is not about survival. It’s about being an egotistical, narcissistic piece of shit. And trust me you will not be redeemed by a halfhearted, bullshit apology for your many _oopsies_. So keep it, and just get the hell out of this town.”

“…I guess I deserve that.”

“Yes, you do. Now when are you leaving?” She looked around hurriedly, “and where is your entourage of morons?”

“I was asked to get the fuck out, politely by everyone, at least for a while. Jules can be very convincing when he puts his mind, and well other part to it. So I am taking a...um...sabbatical and I deemed none of the morons worthy of my company to bring with me. I am heading South, I think. And I don’t know how long I am staying here. Till I wear out my welcome I guess.”

“Well consider it worn out Lucio. And by gods if you have hurt Julian, I will turn you into a goat and will sell you to a slaughterhouse.” She had no idea how to perform shapeshifting magic but imagining it was fun all the same.

He chuckled and ran his fingers through his hair, looking unwashed and messy perhaps for the first time she had ever seen.

“Please keep it down with my name. Call me Montag. I don’t wanna deal with fans here right now. And I only ever hurt Jules in ways he likes. You must know that by now…”

She felt the urge to get up and run all the way back to Vesuvia, just to hold Julian and make sure he is alright. He must have read something on her face. He looked at her with an unfamiliar softness, “He’s alright. I promise.”

She stood up abruptly. She could feel the sadness lingering in Lucio’s aura and it unsettled her. She has always had a hard time watching people’s sadness. Her heart weighed heavy and she felt an urge to make him stop being sad. _It’s Lucio, Arezu. The devil incarnate. He brought the plague. He made Nadia miserable for years. He enslaved Muriel. He enslaved a guild to make him a damn body. He tore Asra’s family apart. He does not deserve your pity, nor your sympathy._

At that moment, she looked as if she is capable of murder. Lucio looked up at her with renewed admiration. The little witch he thought of as a plaything was a mighty survivor. He secretly wished for the same strength.

“Well, I think it’s time for you to leave, and sleep wherever the hell it is you’re staying. Tomorrow cannot come soon enough. I want you out of this town, Luc…Montag.”

“I barely had a buzz on before you roughed me up and killed it. So if you don’t mind, I will drink myself to oblivion on this piss-tasting beer, right in this corner, and stay till sunrise to get on the first wagon out of here. Deal?”

“Yeah whatever. I can’t say it was a pleasure to see you again, Montag. May our paths never cross again.” With that, she turned on her heels and walked briskly to her friends at the bar. Leigh and Sionne had already stumbled off. Horace was barely keeping his eyes open and chatting up the son of the baker sitting next to him. They seemed to be arguing about something neither of them would remember the next day. As she walked back and sat on the stool again, she could feel the weight of Lucio’s gaze on her back. She felt uneasy and wanted to hurt him and hug him at once.

“Get me drunk, fast, Josie.” Josie looked concerned. _Bless her, she is so sweet. “_ I promise you I am ok and I will tell you all about it tomorrow. OK?” Josie nodded and poured her 3 shots of cheap whiskey. She took one after the other, grabbed some coins out of her satchel, and dropped them on the bar, leaned in and kissed Josie on her cheek, patted Horace on his back, pinned her cape, wrapped the scarf Asra had given her around herself tightly, and walked out of the bar and into the cold without looking back.

* * *

Walking down the alley she felt an ominous surge of energy. The air felt thick. She felt dizzy and nauseous. _Can’t be the alcohol, what the hell is this?_ She leaned against the wall. Turned with her back against the wall, and let herself slide down. She felt a vision piercing through her mind. Like a bad déjà vu. _Stop, stop, please stop._ Last thing she saw, before her eyes slid shut was a few shadows closing in on her.

_***Asra was standing with his arms stretched open. His eyes were shining with an eerie light. “With us, or against us Ari? NOW!”***_

She pried her eyes open by sheer willpower, while her body fought back. Someone was holding her head and she blinked up, eyes adjusting to the dim light of the oil lamp shining above her head. She was on the sidewalk, and the unmistakable blond head looking down at her with something resembling worry was Lucio’s.

“What the hell are you doing Lucio?”

She struggled to get up but quickly gained her composure and pushed him away.

“You just fell to the ground, I thought it’s dangerous to leave you like that in the middle of the night…”

“No, this is not happening. You are not my friend. You are not _worried_ about me. You’re the reason I left. Leave me the fuck alone.”

She turned and started walking. _The vision, the shadows, Lucio in Venterre…this whole night has been a damn nightmare._

“You can go back now, then. The reason you left Vesuvia is no longer there,” he yelled out behind her. She slowed her pace. “You left because you wanted to…Gemma. We’re all selfish. I just happened to have more power than others, so I’ve learned that my selfishness seems to have consequences for everyone. But it’s power I gained because of my abilities, it wasn’t handed to me, you know.”

Maybe it was the terrible taste of whiskey in her mouth, or the fact that this man had the audacity to question her perfectly selfless reasons for abandoning her friends, or just an urge to hurt his arrogant ass; but while he spoke she had conjured a sphere of energy, pressed it in her palm and she let the dense ball fly through the air and hit Lucio like a bullet on his right shoulder.

He fell on his back with a grunt, a look of shock set on his face. “You shot me!” he grunted through clenched teeth. The skin had broken like a blister, and blood was slowly seeping through his white shirt. He was struggling to cover the wound with his prosthetic arm and was at the same time, reaching for a dagger on his belt with his right arm, which didn’t seem to cooperate.

Gemma walked back to him, playing with another orb of energy on her palm. She kicked his hand away from his belt, lifted her booted foot and put her heel down on Montag’s crotch, towering over him. “Listen carefully. We are nothing alike. Your selfishness has killed hundreds of people. I am no longer bound by Asra to practice white magic and you seem to have forgotten that the cavalry isn’t coming.” She was scared, and she was bluffing, but she had no intention of showing the confused former count any mercy. “So, _Montag_ , don’t follow me, don’t speak to me, don’t even gods damn breath the same air as I do. I want you out of the town, out of my life, out of the damn story.” She dug her heel a bit harder on Montag’s crotch and leaned down to look him directly in the eye, “Do you understand?”

Montag was holding back a sob. He was tired, he had just left the town that hated him, and trying to get away from it all when he saw the magician at the bar. After their little spat, he watched her stumble out of the bar and curiosity got the better of him. He walked out after her and watched her pass out on the sidewalk, and when he tried to help, _so gallantly one might even think,_ this ungrateful little bitch has hit her with a magic bullet! Yet her little ultimatum had tickled him juuuuust a bit. Within a fraction of a second, he had grabbed Gemma’s foot with his right hand and the wrist of her hand playing with the orb with his left. Gemma’s eyes went wide, and she fired the orb, but the commotion made it hit the ground behind Montag’s head just before he swung them both around and held her in place with the weight of his body. He lifted her wrists and pin them above her head, bringing his face close to hers.

“I understand. I understand perfectly well that your little magic tricks are no match for many years of being battle-ready, and that this,” he nodded towards the wound on his shoulder, “is just a flesh wound. I am more hurt that my courteous action has been received so poorly by you, but perhaps I would be so kind to let you apologize.” He stared at her expectantly. “Go on!”

Blood was dripping from his shoulder and she felt something stir inside her. She cursed herself for how his weight on her made her feel a flutter in her stomach. _Not the time or the person to feel horny for Arezu._ She summoned enough energy to conjure a small wave rippling through her body and kicking Montag’s body up briefly, enough for her to lift her knee and hit Montag in his crotch. He lightened his grip on her wrists momentarily and growled, but he didn’t budge. “Let’s keep it classy witch, shall we? All I need is a simple apology for wounding me for no reason. I’ll accept a simple thank you as well!” Now Gemma’s knee was pushed outside, and she hooked it behind his back trying to leverage it to turn herself back on top. It was not going to work. She was too drunk and tired to make another attempt. “You are a giant. Get the fuck off me you pig!”

“Not the apology I was looking for, but I’ll take this instead,” He held her tightly in place and kissed her, his tongue exploring her mouth vigorously. She was torn between pushing him off and not wanting his mouth to leave hers. When he stopped, she finally found the will to push him off and pulled herself up from under him. They were both breathless.

“Typical fucking Count of Vesuvia, taking what’s not his, without permission.”

“And whose is it, if I may ask? Mmm, also, you taste like an old man, what the hell were you drinking?”

“Mine, my body is mine you boor; and how the hell would you know what an old man tastes like?” She wiped her mouth and spat, stumbling back up. Montag stood with her.

“I wanted to see what the fuss was all about. Why you had everyone eating out of the palm of your hand. I doubt it’s the old man liquor breath though.”

She looked down at her dress, blood had stained her top. She looked Montag up and down too. His white shirt was now half soaked with blood and his ridiculously tight pants visibly outlined an erection. “Listen up now you pervert. I don’t know what your deal is with old men, but I don’t want you bleeding out from the little scratch my little magic gave you. So you keep your mouth shut and follow me." _Hmm you bleed easy Montag. Gives me many delicious ideas._

Montag chuckled, grabbed his bag that looked misleadingly shabby from the sidewalk, where their fisticuffs had begun and walked behind Gemma in silence.

She lived in the basement of an apothecary. Montag looked around inquisitively. Gemma sighed, “I work here, I am the herbalist at this shop. The owner lets me live down here and pays me enough to not go hungry. It appears I don’t have many other marketable skills; and not all of us can murder for money.”

Lucio bent his neck and ducked to go through the short frame of the door. Gemma had never had visitors in her place, let alone the intolerably conceited former count of Vesuvia. Her clothes were scattered all over the place. She made no attempt to clean up. She snapped her fingers and lit the candles, and went straight to the bottle of cheap whiskey on the counter, leaned back against it, pulled the cork out with her teeth, spat it over on the counter, and took a swig straight out of the bottle.

“Take your shirt off now.” His trademark grin slowly pulled on the corners of his lips, “and wipe that smug grin off your face. This isn’t for you.”

“Can I speak yet?” “Uh uh. I don’t wanna hear you.” Lucio obliged. _Wouldn’t wanna ruin a good thing from happening._

She put her foot on the chair next to her and pushed it towards him, pointing down with the same hand holding the bottle, “Sit.”

She walked around him slowly, looking down at the striking image of the most hated man in Vesuvia, wounded and at her mercy. She ran her fingers in circles around the wound on his shoulder which was still bleeding. He shuddered and looked up at her with his silver eyes. _Never looked at his face from this close. Bratty, selfish, spoiled little nobleman._ She ran her nail over the wound, and Lucio growled. “I like the noises you make when you’re hurt, Lucio.” She was irritated to also feel as if something tugged at her heartstrings.

She brought her bottle over the wound and poured some of it on the wound. Lucio winced but stayed silent. “I can heal this with a little bit of magic you know? But why would I, when I get to make you hurt more?” She pressed her finger further into the wound.

Lucio shifted in the chair and grabbed Ari’s wrist. “Don’t,” he growled.

“Is that a threat?” She laughed and brought the bottle close to Lucio’s lips, “Have a sip, maybe you can endure this _flesh wound_ a bit better.”

She gave him the bottle and walked over to the small kitchen. Lucio watched her with half-lidded eyes, while quaffing a huge swig out of the bottle. She grabbed a bowl, filled it with water, grabbed a few bottles full of herbs and oils and poured them carefully in there. She walked over and got a small leather kit out of a cabinet, bringing it up to her face and inhaling deeply. Lucio could see in the dim light the initials carved into the leather: _J.D._

She unwrapped a gauze, dipped it in the water and walked back over to Lucio. Slowly she ran the gauze around the wound and then over his chest. The gentle care, the heady smells, and the firm gaze on him, lulled Lucio into a sleep like trance. She then picked up the needle and thread, dropped it in a bowl, and poured some whiskey on it. Lucio’s gaze was fixed on her. She looked over his body, his silver eyes gleaming in the warm light of the candles. Ari, took the bottle from him, took another sip and put it on the counter.

She walked over, took the cushions from her worn couch and dropped them on the floor before his feet. She proceeded to spread Lucio’s legs further apart with her foot, slowly lifted her dress up to her hips and straddled him while looking deeply into his eyes. Instinctively his hands lifted to grab her waist.

“Hmm, I think I’ll allow it.” Ari leaned in, closed her eyes and kissed him softly. _Too tender, I can’t bear it._ Somewhere in his mind Lucio hated that this is exactly where he wanted to be. Her hands slowly moving up his arms and into the back of his neck, her fingers gently tangling in his hair. She let her hips move to the rhythm of the pulsating heat coming off Lucio’s body. She tightened her grip in his hair and savoured the muffled groan that escaped him. She bit his lower lip hard and Lucio ground her down by her hips, needing more friction on his hard shaft trapped under the tight pants, separated from the delicious warmth he could feel from her pussy. She stopped, pulled away and got up. Lucio looked panicked. _What did I do?_ His eyes searched her face. She stood in front of him, curiosity in her eyes, unbuttoning her top slowly, undoing her belt and letting her dress fall and pool around her feet.

Lucio kept his gaze fixed on her eyes, afraid that any other move may change her mind. “Listen to me carefully. This, is not for you. I don’t want to fuck Lucio; I want to fuck the stranger in my kitchen. I haven’t had sex since I left, and you are pretty. So you will do. I will never speak of this again and you are still getting the hell out of here by sunrise. And I will hurt you. OK?”

Lucio burst out laughing. “My my Arezu, you surprise me.” Ari continued to stare at him, unamused. “It’s a deal,” he nodded.

She grabbed him by his neck and pulled him off the chair. He swayed but stood up, too tall to make the hand on his neck menacing. Ari let her hand lower from his neck, nails scratching red marks on his skin, around the still bleeding wound, down his chest, over his stomach until her finger was hooked into his belt.

“Take’em off,” she commanded. Lucio fumbled with the belt and almost ripped the pants off himself. His erection was finally uncovered. Ari tilted her head to one side and inspected its delectable curve. “Interesting!” she mumbled while running her fingers over his shaft, grabbing it hard and rubbing her thumb absentmindedly over the head of his cock.

He closed his eyes and relished in the sensation for a moment, “wait, what’s interesting?” nobody had ever made Lucio self-conscious and he didn’t know how to interpret that comment. Thankfully Ari barked another order at him before he could overthink what could be interesting about his damn cock. “On your knees.”

Lucio dropped to his knees, still too tall for her liking. She fantasized about hitting him hard to make him double over with pain, but she wasn’t going to go that far. _Not tonight. Why does hurting him feel so good?_

Once on his knees, she pushed him back, until he fell gracelessly back on his elbows over the cushions scattered on the floor. She crawled over his body, slowly moving up until she was sitting on his chest. She grabbed his hair and looked at him questioningly. Lucio wasted no time, he grabbed her hips and pulled her up and over his face, her pussy mere inches apart from his lips. He wet his lips, his warm breath tickling the inside of her thighs.

“May I?”

“Go on.” He stuck his tongue out and slowly licked her labia. A quiet _ahhh_ was all he needed to know that he was on the right track. Ari sat her weight down on his face now, closing her thighs around his head. She looked down, the decadent sight of him, concentrating hard, his eyes screwed shut and his eyebrows tied in a knot, framed by her thighs, was breathtaking. She could feel his tongue pushing against her vagina and he was moving his head slowly from side to side to get more of his tongue inside. She grinded her hips harder on his face, his stubble adding a certain delightful friction and she hummed, “mmm, who would have thought that mouth is capable of doing more than spewing arrogant nonsense,”

Lucio opened his eyes, his lids heavy and his eyes darkened by something other than lust. She leaned back and slowly bounced her hips just a little to ease his fucking her with his strong tongue. His tongue would make a quick move between the opening of her vagina swiping quickly to her clitoris, sucking slowly on her clit before licking all the way down to fuck her again. She felt her juices smearing on his face. She didn’t want him to make her come, not yet. _Maybe I will tie and gag him down here and keep him forever._

She turned her head and looked at Lucio’s body stretched behind her. She wanted to feel that leaking, twitching cock laying on his stomach, inside of her. She tried to move off his face and he held her in place with his nails digging in her hips. She ran her fingers in his hair and grabbed it hard. Lucio looked up pleadingly. She almost couldn’t stop grinding on his face. It took every ounce of her willpower to peel herself off that delightful mouth.

She slid down his body and sat on his throbbing cock, her swollen pussy lips spreading around his hard shaft. Lucio tried to slide her back and forth, his cock aching with the need to be inside her. She leaned back, reached up over the counter and grabbed the little bowl holding the needle and thread swimming in whiskey.

“I can’t have you bleeding all over my cushions now, can I?”

He propped himself up on his elbows, looking confused. She grabbed him by the shoulder her thumb digging in his wound and pulled him up, until he was sitting up, still curving his back so she was straddling him, his cock trapped between his stomach and her.

She was slowly teasing his cock, sliding her dripping pussy up and down his shaft while holding him still with her thumb over his wound.

He grunted, a dangerous look flitting across his face. “Careful how far you push me Arezu.”

“We made a deal.” She laughed at the wounded look on his face. “I am not known to keep my word,” he quipped. She let go of his shoulder, fished the needle out of the bowl, carefully threaded it all the while, making small grinding circles on his cock.

Lucio let his head fall back, suddenly exasperated by this impossible woman, who intrigued him, turned him on and tortured him all in one breath. _I’m happy I’ve hurt you and those you love, Fool._

She lifted herself off him. He looked back down in alarm. She was looking at him with a softness in her eyes that made her look like a different person. It didn’t last long. She reached down and held his cock in her hand, aligned her pussy over it, and slowly sank on his aching cock. She released a trembling breath; Lucio’s mouth dropped open, his eyes fell shut, but before he could let himself drift away in pleasure, he felt a piercing pain on his right shoulder. He whipped his head back up, and sat up all the way, instinctively his hands flew over to stop the pain, grabbing her wrists hovering over his wound.

She looked at him firmly. “Don’t make me tie your hands, Lucio.” He released her hands and watched her, carefully loop the thread and pushing the needle in flesh for another stitch.

Slowly she started to rock back and forth on his lap, biting her lower lip and stifling a moan. He could barely feel the sting of the needle now. Her face looked flushed, her hair a mess of big, wild curls. He briefly let himself enjoy the unabashed look of lust in her green eyes. “Your cock feels so good,” she panted. “now be good and hold still.”

She continued to slowly move, stitching his wound close, jabbing him a little too exuberantly and tightening around his cock with each inevitable groan that escaped him.

“You are the devil Ari…”

She laughed, “We both know I am much more powerful and benevolent than him.” Before long, she had finished stitching him up, thread going in and out of his skin erratically, while she rode him with vigor. He fondly thought of how the scar will always remind him of this moment. She reached for the bottle and poured some more alcohol over the sewed-up wound, admiring her work. “Now, where were we?”

He took the opportunity to put his arm on the small of her back and rolled them both over, so that he was on top.

“I am not known for my patience either, Arezu.” He pushed her hands up and held them in place with his prosthetic arm, leaning down, his other hand wandered over her body hungrily, his mouth following, he palmed a full breast and planted sloppy kissed around the pigmented ring of her areola before sucking it in his mouth, he bit her hard nipple lightly, she whimpered and tried to pull her hands from his grip.

Lucio sat up a bit more, still holding her wrists above her head, and started setting a punishing pace. Finally getting his way, he started thrusting with all his pent-up frustration and anger. He felt her pussy grabbing his cock and grunted knowing he wasn’t going to last long. The sound of his hips slapping against her ass, the way she ground up to meet each thrust, the bounce of her breast and how her eyes were fixed on his every move, was too much. He closed his eyes. _Mind over matter._ He tried to take a deep breath slowing his pace, but before he could fully fill his lungs, he felt a silky sensation around his neck, opening his eyes in alarm and releasing her hands, he tried to hook his prosthetic finger under the rope tightening around his neck, but there was nothing there. He saw a smiling Ari sitting up. He was gasping for air, she slowly pulled herself off the throbbing, pulsing and ready to burst cock. Lucio grimaced, he was trying to cough, he couldn’t understand…She pushed him back and slowly lowered herself back on his cock, releasing the invisible scarf that was restricting the airflow to his lungs. He gasped and coughed, “What the fuck?”

“Told you this isn’t for you, didn’t I?”

Lucio glared at her, frustration and confusion clouding his mind, but then she started to move again. _Ahhh gods that feels so good_. She put her palms on his pecs, leaned forward and continued to ride him, the angle hitting her g-spot and stimulating her clit at the same time. It only took a few minutes before she was trembling in ecstasy, impaling herself on his hard cock. She couldn’t hold back her moans, getting louder, sweat beading on her temples, legs spasming until she pushed herself over the edge. Squeezing her eyes shut, her lips mouthed an inaudible _fuck_ as she came with a shudder. She lowered her body on Lucio’s chest, trying to find her breath again.

She took a moment, listening to his heart thumping as if it was trying to burst out of his ribcage. Lucio was dazed, basking in the glow of the orgasm he just witnessed. A few seconds passed in silence of their heavy breaths, and Lucio slowly started thrusting up again. Ari sat up with a wicked smile on her face, abruptly lifting herself off the still hard cock inside her, she winced. “We’re done. Now you will get the gratitude you were seeking. Thank you for being my toy tonight.” She pecked him on the cheek quickly before straightening up and walking away.

“You gotta be kidding me, this isn’t fair.”

Ari walked over to the bathroom, poked her head out, “here,”. She threw a towel at him, “clean up if you want, and um, you’re allowed to finish yourself off now if you’re gonna pout the whole night.”

Lucio grabbed a cushion and threw it at her, she ducked and chuckled, surprised, “Seriously? Now we’re gonna have a pillow fight?” 

She went back in the bathroom, he could hear her humming, the sound of running water calming his nerves teetering on the edge.

He covered his face with his palms, frustrated. _Uhhhhh._ He wondered what he could have gotten away with had he still been in _his_ palace. He would have ordered her back and if she refused, he would have had the means to persuade her otherwise. He felt like he had been away from the life that others lived for too long. Too long to know if this is normal. If she makes everyone this flustered. Too long for him to know how to handle the situation he was in.

He sat up and looped his arms around his knees loosely. He looked at his cock with pity. He inspected the careless sutures on his shoulder and sighed. He had an unfamiliar feeling gnawing at the pit of his stomach. A sadness he didn’t quite know.

She walked out with a robe on. Hair braided in an attempt to tame the wild mane. “You can sleep in my bed if you want. Just remember I sleep with a dagger under my pillow and my deadliest magic at my fingertips. Don’t fuck with me.”

He followed her to the little bedroom. The modest room had a high, rectangular window to the herb garden right behind the shop. The window was open, and a cool breeze brought in the pleasant smells of lavender and sage. Melancholy crept into his heart. He sat on the edge of the bed, suddenly feeling the weight of his uncertainty. In a rare moment of clarity, he also deeply felt how his actions had driven this woman to leave all that was comfortable and familiar to her, to live in a hole, away from those she loved. For reasons unbeknownst and alien to him, he felt the very first pangs of guilt.

The bed behind him dipped, the air was filled with the aroma of oils and he could hear Ari rubbing her hands over her skin. She had already laid down on the bed. He could sense her scrutinizing gaze on his back. “Are you still moping?” Lucio remained silent. “Wait, did you honestly think you deserved to get off? Do you think you _deserve_ anything good, after the shit you have put everyone through?”

Lucio tried to swallow the lump forming in his throat. He felt uncharacteristically raw, like something was shifting inside him and he felt _weak_. He hated himself and hated this woman for making him feel this way. He was sinking into an unfamiliar despair, he felt lucid and confused simultaneously _. It’s not her though_. Somewhere in his frazzled psyche, he knew exactly when the feeling set in. It was when the door to the carriage closed shut, and he looked at Nadia through its small window. She held his gaze until the carriage turned around the corner. Her eyes looked not sad, but pained and disappointed. He felt like he couldn’t move his limbs, he sat there, staring into the other end of the cabin, motionless for a long time.

It was just the timing of seeing the magician again; he felt the same hollow feeling in the pit of his stomach, right before she walked in and roughed him up! The process of being pushed out had done a number on his ego. For the first time in his life, he could no longer pretend like he wasn’t at fault.

Ari sat up on her elbows, trying to get a better look at Lucio’s face. She could only see his profile, a scowl on his face and a hint of a flush over his sharp cheekbones. His eyes looked much softer, perhaps due to the absence of the menacing black lines around his eyes.

“When I ask you a question, Montag, I expect an answer.”

He cleared his throat and quickly wiped the single drop of tear making its trail down his face. “No. I don’t think I deserve anything good. Not tonight.”

“Hmm, that was a better answer than I anticipated. Maybe I will have to keep you around for a few more nights, to see what else this Montag can surprise me with.”

Lucio turned his head to look at her over his shoulder. “Do…do you mean it?”

She reached over with one arm and looped it around his waist, pulling him back on the bed. He laid back but kept looking down intently to avoid eye contact. She raised herself on one elbow and leaned over him, holding his chin in one hand, she pulled his face to force him to look at her.

“I won’t be nice to you, and I reserve the right to kick you out any time I feel like it. Would you like to stay here a few more nights Montag?”

He held back the sob bubbling up his throat. “I would like to stay a few more nights.”

“And what do you think one says when they ask someone for something?”

“Uh, please?”

“Bingo!”

She let go of his chin and laid her head on his chest. “You stink of sex and old beer. We’ll bathe you tomorrow,” she hummed. All candles flickered out at once. Soon he could hear her soft breathing. Montag stared at the ceiling, unbidden tears rolling down his cheeks. He remained motionless, until the sky began to brighten.


	3. We Regret to Inform You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Present time. Ari is reluctant to share the reasons for her return. Luckily, enough has happened in Vesuvia for her to keep the focus off her...for now.

She woke up alone in the bed upstairs. The sun must have been still below the horizon. The light in the room was a mix of bronze and yellow and it made the room look like an old painting. She was flooded with memories of the hollow feeling she would get, on mornings when she would wake up alone, realizing Asra had left again.

She stretched her limbs and took a deep breath. For a brief moment, the weight of the years seemed to lighten and she felt like that innocent apprentice, with unexplained memory loss, who lived and learned each day like a newborn. A thirst to learn and to live, fully, to make up for the years lost. How she missed those days where the rediscovery of her _self_ brought her joy. She signed and swung her legs off the bed. The morning light shone over her body and she reached her hand out into the light. Immediately, she felt a cold breath on her palm. She closed her eyes and recast a spell under her breath. “Not yet Sarama…” She whispered.

She had no recollection of what happened after the dinner last night and how she made it upstairs alone. She felt well rested and was craving a nice cup of coffee. She got up and refreshed herself; her robe was still loosely hanging over her body. She walked over to grab a dress and was tempted to look in Asra’s closet. Maybe she could steal one of his comfy shirts. Opening the closet, she ran her fingers across the shirts hanging neatly in the closet. Some were Asra’s. But then there were a few loose shirts in white and some in black. They were unmistakably Julian’s. _Maybe they did mend what they had broken after all._ As much as it seems like things hadn’t changed, she was happy to see some things had. She leaned in and inhaled the mix of nostalgic smells of jasmine and tobacco wafting off the shirts before noticing a stack of opened letters at the bottom of the closet. Her curiosity got the better of her and she kneeled to look at them closely.

They were addressed from all over the place. She unfolded one. _“Greetings from Firent. We have checked all logs of all arrivals via the Nimbus Fork Stagecoach and regret to inform you that we have not had any guests registering under the name of Arezu (Ari) Rahil.”_

The letter went on to include the mailing address of various other carriage services. She couldn’t help but feel a little surprised that they had searched for her for so long. She quietly mused about whether she had underestimated the love they had for her. Over the years, struggling with depression, she often felt isolated, feeling that her presence was an inconvenience to those around her. Her time away, had given her the perspective and the tools to realize that there exist many languages of love, and how she had misunderstood the many ways, and the abundance of love that had been offered to her throughout her life. She dropped the letters back on the pile, suddenly burdened by guilt. She pulled out one of Julian’s shirts and put it on. It was long and the buttons started only midway through the chest. _Of course you can’t button it all the way up! What sacrilege that would be!_

Quietly, she tiptoed her way down the stairs. The two of them were sleeping on the couch. Long limbs falling off the couch with Asra cuddling Julian’s back. So endearing she almost felt as if she was intruding. Quickly she went over to the kitchen. Wondering if she was still allowed to ask for the fire to be lit, she leaned in and whispered to the stove salamander. Within a few seconds she heard the little amphibian rustling around and saw the flames coming on in the stove. _I guess you still remember that this used to be my home._

Home.

It was too early in the morning to think of such grand concepts as home and belonging. She pushed away the thought, relieved to see the fire, she went to fill the kettle before looking in the cabinets for coffee.

“That shirt doesn’t look half bad on you.” A smirking Julian was leaning against the door frame, with sleepy eyes and glorious messy hair. She walked over quickly to give him a hug. It filled her heart with joy to see him healthy and smiling after so many years. “Good morning beautiful,” she beamed. “I am so happy that you stayed, and I get to see your face bright and early.”

He moved in and helped prepare the coffee. He also got the teapot out and started preparing some tea. _For Asra, of course!_ “So…You and Asra, ha? When did it happen?” Julian paused briefly, shifted on his feet and turned around, leaning back on the counter. “We…we aren’t. I mean it’s not what you think.”

“So you’ve just lent your shirts to Asra to fill up his closet after I left? How thoughtful!” Ari winked.

“You have barely been back a day and you’re already bullying me. Fine! We’ve been good. We’ve been each other’s…anchor.”

“Oh is that what they’re calling it these days?”

A blush crept on his cheeks, and he rolled his eyes, “You’re impossible. We are intimate…from time to time. But we are also intimate with others.” He narrowed his eyes at a grinning Ari, “I hope you know how much it messed us both up when you left. Asra and I don’t do so well without a buffer. And your leaving… well, it left a huge Ari shaped hole in our lives. So we tried to heal separately. We kinda fell back into it recently. I guess it’s been a year… Since the last masquerade.”

“Hmm I’m not apologizing for making your guys fill that hole.” Ari grinned. “Ah, I walked right into that one. You are evil. Juuust evil.” He poured the hot water over the coffee and watched it drip for a moment, before leaning against the counter again, facing Ari, “How about you? Are you seeing anyone?”

“Hmm…good evading of any further questioning. I met some people…One of whom is wonderful woman that I live with. We have a similar arrangement…but wait, I have more questions.” Ari walked over, leaning her hips against Julian’s, she held his face in her palms, “I…is Portia doing well? Is she still at the palace?”

A look of hurt flashed across Julian’s face. “Pasha is good. She has remained quite close to Nadia. She is part of the advisory council…” He looked away from Ari and she could see his mind wandering off briefly before he reached up and held Ari’s hand in his, bringing them to his lips. “So does this wonderful woman know you’re here, or did you just leave her a note too? No wait, answer this first: where? _Where_ do you live with this woman?”

Ari sighed, “I miss Portia so much…I am glad she is well. What’s the advisory council?” Julian shook his head, “Hey this is not gonna work. We need to trade questions. I am dying to know what you’ve been up to.”

Ari smiled, “That’s fair…I moved around a bit. Stayed at Venterre under an alias for quite some time and worked at a small shop. Felt like Vesuvia still followed me there... So I left Venterre after a year. Eventually I ended up in Hjalle last year. I like it there. A small port city, with lots of merchants coming through; everyone thinks you’re just travelling through; not many questions. I kept to myself. Even my neighbors probably wouldn’t recognize me.”

“Hjalle! I remember visiting it many years ago. The pirates called it the Floating City. I wrote to the only innkeeper there… I suppose that was before you arrived there…” His eyes dimmed and he seemed conflicted for a moment “And you keeping to yourself? The woman who made friends with every gondolier on the gloomy trips we took to Lazaret? I don’t believe you!”

She laughed quietly, standing on her tiptoes to reach his cheek and kissed him gently. “I guess I have changed Jules.” She leaned back in alarm for a moment, searching his face. “Do you still hate it when people call you Jules?” He shook his head. “Then I guess you have too.”

He slid his hands down her waist and held her hips, pressing her to himself; his gaze closed in on the open buttons of his shirt on Ari and his notoriously mischievous grin pulled on the corner of his lips. “So when you say you have a similar arrangement to Asra and I, you mean I am allowed to do this,” He picked her up by her waist, turned around and put her up on the counter and leaned in, his lips brushing against hers, “right?” he breathed, hesitant. She wrapped her legs around him, weaved all her fingers in his luscious hair, pulled him in and kissed him deeply, savoring the quintessential taste of Julian. She sighed when they separated, both breathing heavily. “mmmm… you, Sir, are allowed to do this any time, any day, anywhere. You have my eternal consent.”

A smirk formed on his lips, “Hmm…you shouldn’t have said that.” He leaned in for another kiss. When they broke the kiss, he lowered his head, resting his ear on her chest, listening to her steady heartbeat. She held him tightly and rest her chin on top of his head.

“Don’t ever leave like that again Ari. I didn’t know if I can survive it…”

“Never again. I promise. I am so sorry for hurting you Julian.”

* * *

When the coffee was ready, she poured two cups, Julian pouring the tea for Asra and putting a small spoonful of honey in it. “You are adorable! How are you so adorable?” She gave him a slap on his ass and he half jumped and let out a high pitched “HEY!” while trying to keep the cup of tea steady. They walked out together to a glorious Asra sitting up on the couch, half naked, _of course with the best bed head in the whole damn world._

“What are you two up to, causing a ruckus this early in the morning?” He yawned and gave Julian a soft look when he passed him the cup of tea. “Oh Ari was just telling me about how she has been living in Hjalle the past year and apparently been doing a great many things including a pretty little lass. That’s why her hands have been too busy to write to us.” Julian sat next to Asra on the couch, sipping on his coffee with his pinky stuck out, eyeing Ari. He was fully enjoying being a shit disturber*. Ari sat across from them on the worn-out love-seat. 

“You don’t say!” Asra took a sip. “So, off to a good start this morning then. Maybe we can figure out a few other things too. Like why she thought it necessary to leave a dramatic note and vanish into thin air?” Ari felt something shift in the mood of the room. “Gods, you two are a handful. I haven’t had two sips of this dreadful coffee and I am already being crucified. Don’t they give the lamb at least a cup of coffee before the slaughter?”

“Actually, they don’t. If the lamb has been a terrible little bother, they take away the coffee and give her a little spanking before the slaughter.”

“Oh, don’t threaten me with a good time…Master” She waggled her eyebrows at Asra, trying to lighten the mood. “Can I also ask questions or am I only meant to answer and be chastised?” Julian got up and moved over to her seat as if suddenly feeling bad for ambushing her like this. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her close, placing a kiss on her temple. _Ah I can get used to this warmth again._ “Ask away.” Julian said. Asra looked quizzically at him.

“So, I heard that there was some unrest after the plague. That the * _ehem_ * reincarnated Lucio was asked to step down and that Nadia refused to take the reins? What happened?”

Asra and Julian exchanged an uneasy look. “Who did you hear it from?”

“Some…traveler...”

Asra cleared his throat. “You probably remember how tense everyone was. The guild members whom Lucio bribed to do the reincarnation spell, were banned from their community. The members were not treated well here, and they were too powerful to be crossed. For better or for worse, they left Vesuvia for Megonis and we haven’t heard from them since. People took to the streets shortly after. Those who were present at that cursed masquerade when the gates of the in-between realms were opened for Lucio to be brought back, witnessed firsthand the selfishness and arrogance of Lucio. They were the ones leading the charge.”

Julian looped a ring of Ari’s curls around his finger absentmindedly as if recounting the events in his mind, “Asra and I tried to reason with Nadia to take charge. The people seem to see her as a victim of Lucio as opposed to an accomplice. She felt like she would be sabotaged and undermined by the courtiers and people wouldn’t put their faith in the palace a second time.”

“Lucio was of course livid. He was on the verge of ordering the army to attack protesters. We had a hard time getting through to him… Back from the dead and drunk with power, and well lots of wine, he refused to let anyone mediate…well anyone except Ilya…”

They silence lingered heavily in the room. _I'm not ready._ She didn't want to ask...they didn't want to tell.   
The sun was now shining through the window warming Ari’s feet; it was the afternoon and she suddenly felt extremely hungry. “I am starving!” Julian finally exhaled. Asra got up and headed to the kitchen. “What do you want to do today?” He called out.

“Don’t you have to open the shop? And how about you? Do you still run the clinic? I don’t want to disrupt your day.”

Asra poked his head out of the kitchen. “Are you serious? Is she serious Ilya?”

“Don’t be silly woman! You’ve fucking reappeared after 3 years. Nobody is doing anything today other than making sure you’re ok before we can make you pay for all your sins!”

“I second that,” Asra called out from the kitchen. Whatever he was making smelled divine. Hearing Asra in the kitchen, the warmth of the sun on her feet with Julian by her side, she felt a sense of calm wash over her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *I am a citizen of the world but my English has been influenced by the Canadians, eh? So get used to it, we call people who disturb the shit, shit disturbers!

**Author's Note:**

> Yup! It's another Arcana fanfic.
> 
> I felt like the MC's agency was not really honoured in the story. I also would have loved more options for the MC to not be so...accommodating?  
> Lots more to post. Lemme know if you liked it?


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